


The Taste of You

by mmmdraco



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very-nearly-cabin-fic, only not because snark and underground and somewhat established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hostilecrayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecrayon/gifts).



> A did a little contest thing for my followers [on my tumblr](http://superhappygenki.tumblr.com) where the winner got a whole fic, and everyone else got a drabble. This is one such drabble.

"How the hell do you still taste like tea?" Desmond gripped Shaun by the front of his shirt, enjoying the way it bunched up in his hand.

Shaun was quick to give him a haughty look. "We are in a _sophisticated_ hole in the ground, as it were. But even third world countries have tea, you prat."

Desmond scowled before grabbing for Shaun's belt, unbuckling it. "Well, maybe sometimes I want to taste you instead of your fucking tea."

Pulling Desmond close, hands near his dick be damned, Shaun pressed his lips to Desmond's, drawing him into an even deeper kiss than the one that had made Desmond express his displeasure in the first place. When he pulled away, he rolled his hips to remind the other man of the importance of the work his hands played at, his breath already hitching with need. "You _can_ taste me without tasting tea, you know."

Desmond growled, but finished undoing Shaun's pants anyway. He eased them down his hips, thumbs catching at his underwear as well, dragging it across the head of his cock. Shaun grimaced at the feeling, but let it go at the feel of Desmond taking him in hand and stroking him roughly, callused fingers catching at all of the right spots. It was almost charming how the other man could find something to complain about in every situation, but he wondered how much of that charitable thought came from watching Desmond moisten his lips as he got to his knees. Desmond's hand stoked down to the base of his cock, holding him in place, and then he was engulfed in warmth and little else seemed to matter.

It was a battle, of sorts, for Shaun to claw his way back to conscious thought as Desmond took him deeper inside his mouth, the tongue he usually used for backtalking reserved only for laving along Shaun's cock. There was a part of him, the part that thoroughly enjoyed getting the better of Desmond, that loved watching him like this so pliant and generous. That same part also loved to watch Desmond's mouth work along his cock, edging closer and closer to the base with each stroke. The slight shine of his scar along those tight lips thrilled him. It was a distinguishing characteristic he could use to recall these moments any time he looked at the man, reminding himself of why all of his hard work was worth it.

Shaun lost control for a moment, fingers coming up to try to grasp at Desmond's hair but sliding along his scalp uselessly as the other man took him in entirely, nose pressed tight against his pelvis. As he hollowed his cheeks, Shaun grunted and thrust his hips against him and began to come.

Desmond pulled back almost entirely, only keeping the head of Shaun's cock in his mouth and drinking down his seed, stroking the shaft to milk the rest onto his tongue. Slightly out of breath, Shaun pulled away and leaned against a nearby wall and attempted to look haughty again even as his dick hung half-hard and his pants were still around his knees. "There. That didn't taste like tea, did it?"

Wiping right along the scar with his thumb, Desmond scowled, the expression almost cute when his lips were puffy from giving a blow job. "It did. A little. You drink too damn much tea."

Shaun pulled his pants up finally, tucking himself away and pushing off the wall before making his way toward Desmond. "Then, perhaps you have a suggestion of something else nice and warm to drink?"

Desmond raised his eyesbrows as he smiled and pulled off his hoodie.


End file.
